


Did I Do That

by makesomelove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Fanon As Hell, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Swap, M/M, Memory Loss, Pack Family, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Friendship, STILES AND DEREK AREN'T EVEN FRIENDS, WHERE IS SCOOT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 05:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesomelove/pseuds/makesomelove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is not normal," Stiles says. "This is not normal at all. Something in that box must've done this."</p><p>"Done what? I feel fine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did I Do That

**Author's Note:**

> TO MY HYSTEREKAL BOO, DRUNKTUESDAYS: UR WISH IS MY COMMAND. HAPPY GALENTINE'S DAY! Inspired by those episodes of Family Matters where Steve Urkel drinks a potion/in later episodes, gets into a box and transforms himself into his alter-ego Stefan Urquelle ([SEE HERE](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8wZ_2EK_D4)). Derek Hale's Stefan Urquelle is basically Tyler Hoechlin and it makes me LOL. 10,000 gentle hand kisses for rlottery because I forced her to read this and she fixed my typos and told me she luved it.

"Aren't you the one who said not to touch anything?" Stiles says.

"I told you to not touch anything," Derek says.

"And I didn't, and you did, so now look where we are."

At present Derek is honest to god trapped inside a box and can't get out. It's really more of a closet or a TARDIS, but Stiles can tell by peeking in through the tiny window on the front of it that it is not a walk-in or bigger on the inside.

"Get me out of here," Derek says through gritted sharp werewolf teeth.

"Don't like confined spaces, hm?" Stiles says.

"Stiles!" Derek says. He rams into the door of the box with his shoulder, but it doesn't even shake, it just sounds like it smarts, or it would if you weren't a werewolf.

"Ask nicely," Stiles says.

"If you don't open this door, I'm gonna kill you," Derek yells. He's pounding hysterically on the door and Stiles wouldn't be surprised if his mouth was foaming. It's delightful.

"Okay, okay, keep your pants on," Stiles says. "Is that a phrase? I don't remember. It doesn't sound right. Taking your pants off probably wouldn't help you, so why would you need to be told to keep them on?"

Derek's agitated growling gets louder. Stiles searches the door for a handle or a latch, but there's nothing. He tries to get hold of the side with his fingers to pry it open, but there's nothing to grab.

He starts to feel worried for the first time since this stupid exploration started. Derek found him at school after it was let out and basically forced Stiles to come along with him but wouldn't give him many details. Mad scientist hunters had a secret underground lab with secret experiments and Derek wanted to check it out, because nothing could go wrong there. The entrance to the lab is hidden behind some boulders in the woods that are so obviously not from around here that it's laughable to Stiles that no one discovered this place before.

The secret underground lab isn't that impressive. He only knew it existed for about 20 minutes, but he already built it up in his mind that it was going to be like a cool, sterile government lab with werewolf-aliens on slabs begging to be killed. In reality it's just like an unfinished basement that was carved out of the ground, with empty beakers that aren't even filled with grotesque werewolf fetuses on lopsided shelves and microscopes on some card tables and a couple of lamps and apparently a magician box that traps you forever and doesn't have a handle. He doesn't even know why Derek thinks there's been recent activity here at all, because it's obvious everything is coated with dust, like nobody's been down here for years. 

"Derek," Stiles says.

"What?" Derek says.

"Don't panic, but --"

Derek roars and his assault on the door starts up anew, but still nothing is budging. Stiles wonders if he'll have to leave Derek here and just come back every other day to feed him rabbits through the little window. He notices then that there are breathing holes in the glass in the little window. He shivers thinking about what the intended use of this box was. 

"Hey, calm down," Stiles says. "I know that's the last thing you want to hear right now, but you need to calm down. We can figure this out."

"Stiles," Derek pleads, really truly pleads, and it makes something in Stiles' chest hurt, like a dog crying. "I don't - like confined spaces," he says, echoing Stiles' earlier teasing.

"Okay," Stiles says. "It's okay. Look around the box. What do you see?"

"Nothing," Derek says.

"Come on, there has to be something," Stiles says. "Is there a handle?"

"Oh, yes, sorry, it's right here, I'll just use that then," Derek says. 

"Good to know you still have your sense of humor," Stiles rolls his eyes. "Maybe I should go get -"

"Don't!" Derek cries. "Don't - leave."

"Okay," Stiles says. He puts his hand on the little window, and Derek puts his hand up against it. Their fingertips meet through one of the breathing holes, a tiny circle of touch. It seems to calm Derek down somewhat and he yanks his hand self consciously and backs away from the door as far as he can in the shallow box.

"Uh," Derek says, sounding embarrassed. Stiles doesn't have time for this; Derek can feel dumb about needing human contact with Stiles later. 

"Can you unwolf yourself?" Stiles says. "That might help you think more clearly. I don't know how much time we have left before whoever runs this place comes back, and we need to get you out of here."

Derek's face appears in the little window and he's back to his person form, and for some reason it makes Stiles want to help him less. The wolf was like a sad trapped animal, but this guy is the guy who sucks.

"Thanks," Stiles says. "You look like a thing off that reality show on the Syfy channel when you're a wolf. What is that show called?"

"I don't have cable," Derek says.

Stiles sighs. "Now that your head is clearer, can you see anything?"

"There are buttons," Derek says. "A panel of buttons."

"Great!" Stiles says. "Hit some of them."

"They're not labeled," Derek says.

"So what?"

"So I'm not just gonna hit a bunch of unlabeled buttons in a box I'm trapped in," Derek says.

"Just hit the biggest one," Stiles says.

"The biggest button is always the one that makes something blow up."

"Yeah, I know," Stiles mutters. "I don't know, man, just pick one. It's either this or you have to live in this box forever. That'd be weird. We'd have to like, put your box in a shopping cart and push you around everywhere. Is that what you want? You want to live in this box forever while people push you around? That's a good metaphor for life, actually."

"Okay!" Derek says. "Okay, I'll hit one. Just stop talking."

"Okay, but - "

Derek must hit a button because the inside of the box lights up, and it glows so bright Stiles can't look at it directly. It starts making noises like it's about to take off like a rocket, but it doesn't look like it's actually going anywhere.

"Derek!" Stiles yells over the noise.

He can't hear anything besides the box. God, he's going to feel bad if he got Derek electrocuted or radiation poisoned or worse. Maybe he's threatened to kill Derek before, and maybe he wants him out of his damn hair, but he doesn't think he could ever - not like this.

The box powers down just as suddenly as it powered up. It's back to looking like a harmless closet, and Stiles is just about to go peek through the little window when the door swings open, and Derek collapses out of it and lands on his face.

Stiles rushes over to his side and flips him over. He checks for a pulse, and he has one, so at least there's that. He checks for any bleeding wounds and then remembers Derek is a werewolf, so he lifts Derek's eyelids open with his thumb to look at his pupils, because he doesn't know if werewolves get concussions or not. Derek seems to be fine, just kind of deeply asleep, which is nice for him but they really have to get out of here.

Stiles realizes he's still gently caressing Derek's face then, which feels normal and familiar, probably because he does it every time Derek is hurt, like it's a natural thing, and perhaps Stiles should examine why he helps Derek stay alive so much and why he likes to check to make sure he's okay. The only reason he notices he's still got his hands on Derek is because Derek seems to have grown a full, very soft beard since they've been here, and Stiles is petting it gently, which is when Derek's eyes flutter open.

Derek puts his hands over Stiles' hands on his face, and Stiles expects Derek to rip his arms off, do a back flip, and run off, but instead he just holds his hands there, his fingers circling Stiles' wrists and squeezing briefly before he starts to sit up.

"Good, you're awake and I didn't even have to kiss you," Stiles says.

Derek looks at him with a confused expression and then he -

"Heeey, Stiles," Derek smiles with his teeth and eyes. It's very bizarre.

"Hey," Stiles says. "Are you okay?"

"I feel great," Derek says. "Did you say something about kissing me?"

"It was a joke," Stiles scoots away from Derek and clambers up off the ground, pretending to brush dirt off himself.

Derek just sits there and holds his hand up.

"What?" Stiles says.

"Can you help me up, please?" Derek says.

Stiles isn't entirely sure this isn't a trick to get Stiles to grab Derek so Derek can snap his neck and do werewolf cartwheels out of here, but he grabs Derek's hand anyway and pulls him up.

"Thanks," Derek says, putting an arm around Stiles and squeezing him. Hugging him. Derek is hugging him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Stiles says. "You're acting kind of strange."

"I'm fine," Derek says. His arm is still casually thrown over Stiles' shoulder like they're the best of friends.

"Let's get you out of here," Stiles says.

 

~*~

 

They get out of the secret underground lab with nothing to show for it but Derek's new very soft beard.

"You didn't have that before, right?" Stiles says. "I wasn't paying that much attention."

Derek rubs a hand over his face and he looks bashful about it. "Oh, this? I don't know. Guess it's been growing for a while. I'm just gonna let it do its thing."

Stiles looks at Derek like he's talking crazy, because he is. When they get out of the deep woods, they pass by some hikers, and Derek smiles and flashes them a peace sign.

"What was that?" Stiles says.

"Just saying hello," Derek says.

"This is not normal," Stiles says. "This is not normal at all. Something in that box must've done this."

"Done what? I feel fine."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"I could eat," Derek says.

 

~*~

 

Stiles takes him to a diner and Derek orders 5 slices of different kinds of pies after saying "let's be naughty" to him in front of the waitress while Stiles tries to sink into the floor and disappear forever.

"God, this is so good," Derek says with his mouth full of lemon meringue and blueberry pie. He gathers a bite on his fork and tries to put it in Stiles' mouth. "Try these together."

Stiles slaps his hand away and the pie bites go flying off somewhere.

"You don't like pie?" Derek says sadly.

"I don't like _this_ ," Stiles says, gesturing to Derek.

Derek somehow manages to get all 5 pies into one bite, puts it in his mouth, decides it's not for him and politely spits it back out into a napkin.

"What?" Derek says. "I love pie."

"Apparently," Stiles says. He puts his head down on his arms and tries to think.

"I was thinking," Derek says. "Can I have some milk, please?"

"Sure, drink all the milk you want," Stiles says.

Stiles lifts his head up but he sees Derek was speaking to the waitress and not asking him for permission to drink milk. He has pie all over his face and his smile, which is actually very nice, goes all the way to his eyes, and there are crinkles around his eyes like sunbeams coming out of the sun. It's beautiful, and Derek looks genuinely happy, but Stiles can't let himself get distracted by it and lose sight of what's important here. This is not normal, and he has to figure out what's happened.

"I was thinking, I should start going by a different name, right? 'Derek' sounds so - harsh."

"What?" Stiles says.

"Like, I could start going by 'Der' or something," Derek says. "Or 'Ty'."

"Is that your middle name?" Stiles says.

"I don't have one," Derek shakes his head sadly, then brightens when he looks back at Stiles. "What's yours?"

"None of your damn business," Stiles says. "Why Ty?"

"I just feel like a Ty."

"Let's go with Der," Stiles says.

He's not sure he should be encouraging this. He's horrified, and he feels embarrassed for Derek because he knows Derek would be embarrassed about this, but he's also deeply, insanely amused. Suddenly Derek is a laidback, pie-eating guy who goes by Der and throws peace signs at strangers. He can't wait to show the others, first so they can make fun of Derek as a group when he's back to normal, and second so they can help get him back to normal.

When Derek gets his receipt after paying for his pie, he leaves a $20 tip and signs his name Der Peace Sign.

 

~*~

 

Erica takes one look at Derek and gets right to the shoving and yelling.

"What did you do?" Erica says, backing Stiles up against a wall. 

"Nothing, I - there was this box?" Stiles says.

Erica's nostrils flare.

"It's his own fault because he dragged me to a secret underground hunter lab and got himself trapped in a magical box that wouldn't open which I guess is what trapped means and then he hit a button and there was a light and then he came out and now he's this," Stiles explains in one breath before he gets his head ripped off.

They both look over to Derek, who is busy playing hacky sack with Boyd.

"Where did you get that?" Stiles asks.

"I dunno," Derek says. He and Boyd perform impressive, elaborate kicks back and forth to each other for endless minutes, never dropping the sack once, probably because they're werewolves. Stiles is mesmerized. He thinks they could enter tournaments, all of them as a team, and win thousands of dollars, because that's probably a thing, and nobody would ever know, until he remembers this is very weird.

Erica is still looking at Stiles like she wants to murder him, but then all of a sudden she smiles.

"This is awesome," Erica says to him before joining the hacky sack circle.

 

~*~

 

Stiles hangs out on Derek's couch for a couple hours, hoping maybe whatever's happened to Derek will wear off with time. It only gets worse, though.

"Thanks, Der!" Isaac says after Derek answers the door for the pizza he ordered for them. He came in after they'd all been playing hacky sack for an hour and joined in immediately like nothing was wrong. Dumb pack mentality.

Derek sits by Stiles on the couch with a piece of pizza on a plate which he tries to put in Stiles’ mouth. Stiles slaps his hand away and the pizza lands on the floor behind them somewhere, cheese-down if the splat noise is anything to go by.

"What is your obsession with feeding me?" Stiles says.

"I dunno," Derek says. He looks sad, like he's failed. "I just wanna make sure you're taken care of."

Stiles feels bad for reacting meanly to Derek because Derek is being really nice. He's just annoying Stiles so much, because this isn't him. It's like when you like someone - god, does Stiles like Derek? - and then they get really drunk and stupid and you're in charge of them because everyone else is drunk too and you can't look at them the same for a while.

"Get me another piece," Stiles says. "I'll feed myself, though."

Derek smiles and can't jump over the back of the couch fast enough to get a piece of pizza for him.

 

~*~

 

"You wanna play another round?" Isaac says to Derek, holding up the hacky sack. He looks like he's bringing an apple up to a teacher.

"I was thinking we could go outside," Derek says. He pulls a frisbee out of the couch cushions. "I found this frisbee!"

Boyd and Erica groan from where they're both lying on the floor. It looks like they've eaten 10 pizzas between them.

"Why do you just have toys hidden everywhere?" Stiles says.

Derek shrugs and runs outside with Isaac trailing behind him, and Stiles follows after them. He's got to see this.

Isaac and Derek have both wolfed out, which Stiles should say something about because it's still daylight, but nobody really comes around Derek's street, anyway, it's always quiet whenever he's forced to be here, so he lets them have their fun. They throw the frisbee back and forth, obviously as hard and as high as they can, and each of them try to outdo each other in how many flips they do and how high they jump to catch it. Isaac gives up when Derek catches the frisbee with his feet in midair. He jogs past Stiles to go back inside, slapping him on the shoulder, and he looks so breathless and happy, like he's a kid who finally got to play a game of catch with his dad.

"Come on!" Derek yells to Stiles. He's transformed back to his regular self, or at least what's regular for now.

Stiles goes out to meet him. "I can't really do 10 backflips into the air and catch a frisbee with my teeth," Stiles says. "At least not without a trampoline."

"We should get a trampoline!" Derek says. His excited smile lights up his entire face. "That'd be so awesome!"

"Sure," Stiles says and he can't help smiling, too.

"Just throw it and I'll catch it and bring it back," Derek says.

"Um," Stiles says. "Okay, if you insist."

He hopes when Derek gets back to normal he doesn't remember this, playing fetch with Stiles until it’s too dark for them to see each other. Derek accidentally crashes into Stiles and they both hit the ground, Derek landing on top of him. They're both laughing, and Stiles feels grass-stained and happy.

Derek picks a blade of grass off Stiles' face and touches his cheek. His knee is in the grass between Stiles' legs. Stiles winces. He hopes Derek doesn't remember this, either. 

"Are you okay?" Derek says, eyebrows filling with concern. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Stiles says. "I'm fine. Hey, look."

Derek rolls off him and lays on his back next to Stiles. Their arms touch, they're so close together. The moon is out a little early, the sun just barely set.

"Waxing gibbous," Derek says.

"Almost full," Stiles says.

"It's weird," Derek says. "I don't really feel anything."

"Do you usually?"

"Yeah, I usually feel - " Derek struggles with what he wants to say for a moment. It's like he can't remember what he used to feel. "I dunno. Now I feel like, whatever, let it come. Everything's chill."

"Chill," Stiles repeats. Derek's hand brushes against his, and he shivers for so many reasons. The night breeze, the Derek using the word 'chill' in a sentence, the feel of Derek's skin against his. Stiles is getting distracted. He needs to remember, no matter how nice this is - it's not normal. It's not what should be happening. Whoever this person is, it's not Derek. 

"It's going to be a beautiful night," Derek says.

"Can you feel it in your bones or something?"

"I just know," Derek sighs, content. "Do you wanna stay here? I was thinking we'd camp outside tonight."

"Tempting as sleeping on the ground with werewolves who hate me sounds - "

"Nobody hates you," Derek says very seriously. "I - "

"I better get back home," Stiles interrupts. He can't hear that right now. He's already too unfocused.

He gets up, and Derek puts his hand out for Stiles to help him up again. Derek's hand is a little sweaty, which Stiles wasn't expecting. Derek brushes the grass off his clothes and hugs Stiles to him easily.

"Okay," Derek says. "See you tomorrow?"

"Okay," Stiles says into Derek's shoulder, Derek's hair brushing against his temple. His hair seems to have gotten longer, too, even though it's only been a few hours since - the incident. Stiles guesses now that Derek isn't focused on being a huge butthole, he has energy to grow all his body hair out.

"You need a trim," Stiles says. He doesn't hug back, and he pushes Derek away from him gently, trying not to hurt his feelings. He doesn't know why he's worried about Derek's feelings. 

"Will you do it for me?" Derek says. "The birds can make nests out of my hair!"

"Uh, sure," Stiles says. "Gotta go." 

As Stiles walks away Derek shouts, "You got some grass on your ass!"

Stiles walks faster.

 

~*~

 

When Stiles goes back the next morning, he finds everyone outside. They've clearly had a real campfire going all night and there's even a some leftover rabbit carcass on a spit. Erica and Boyd are lying on the ground with their fingers in their ears like their heads are about to explode. Isaac is sitting in front of Derek on the ground like it's storytime at school, and the man himself is sitting on a rock playing an acoustic guitar. 

"Where did he get that?" Stiles says. 

"We don't know," Boyd says. He sounds like he's about to cry. 

"He's been singing 'Kookaburra' all night," Erica says. 

"Isn't it supposed to be 'Kumbayah'?" Stiles says. 

"He doesn't know that one," Boyd says. 

" _Kookaburra, gay your life must be_ ," Derek sings, with his eyes closed. He opens them suddenly when he notices Stiles has arrived, by hearing him or smelling him or whatever he does. He stops strumming and gently passes the guitar to Isaac to hold, while Erica and Boyd groan in relief. 

"Stiles!" Derek says. "You should've stayed last night. We had so much fun. We were naughty and ate s’mores. Do you want one?" 

Stiles never turns down brunch s’mores, so he says yes. While Derek is busy stoking the fire and assembling s’mores, Boyd runs away into the woods and Erica grabs Isaac by the ear and bolts into the house, blowing kisses behind her. 

"How about - oh," Derek says. He's double-fisting 6 smores. "More for us then." 

He goes to shove one into Stiles' mouth, and this time, Stiles lets him, Derek's sticky, sweet thumb brushing against his mouth, Derek's bright smile like the morning sun. 

 

~*~

 

Derek keeps having things and not knowing exactly where he got them from, but he has all this weird knowledge about a bunch of random stuff now, too. 

"Like this," Derek says. He has Stiles lunging on one knee, and then he puts his hand on Stiles' hip - which Stiles wants to slap away, half because it tickles his hip, and half because it tickles in his penis - and manipulates Stiles into moving his pelvis until Stiles feels like his body is going to break in half. 

"Gah!" Stiles says. "Some of us don't have amazing werewolf flexibility. Some of us have human bones." 

"Come on!" Derek says. "It's easy! You just have to breathe." 

"I am breathing," Stiles says. 

"You must breathe like the ocean," Derek says. He inhales, exhales, then does a handstand and then a full split while in the handstand. 

"Good lord," Stiles mutters to himself. 

"See?" 

"What is this called again?" 

"Vinyasa yoga," Derek says. He gracefully werewolf cartwheels back onto his feet. 

"Oh," Stiles says. "Cool." 

 

~*~

 

One night Stiles comes home from an evening at the library to find his dad and Derek doing macrame in the living room together. Stiles only has a moment to absorb what's happening before his brain shuts off at the ludicrousness of the situation, but it's quite a moment. Derek is wearing basketball shorts and a tanktop and is tying a bracelet, which matches the one Derek is already wearing, around Stiles' dad's wrist. 

"Wrong house," Stiles says and goes to turn around and leave. 

"Come back here," his dad says. 

Stiles storms back in and throws his stuff on the floor. He feels so angry all of a sudden but he doesn't know why. He puts his hands on his hips and tries not to scold his dad, but he knows that's how it's coming out. 

"What is going on here?" Stiles says, resisting his urge to end that question with 'young man'. 

"Nothing," his dad says. "Derek is just teaching me how to do macrame." 

"Why?" Stiles says. 

"He came to the door and - look, it's not what it looks like," his dad says. "We're friends." 

"Since when are you and Derek Hale friends?" Stiles yells. 

Derek pops up behind his dad's back. 

"I made you this," Derek hands over a macrame keychain in the shape of a person and a wolf holding hands. Stiles takes it and says the only thing he can think of. 

"Thanks," he says. Derek looks down and shrugs, smiling shyly. 

"Can Derek stay for dinner?" His dad says. 

Stiles sighs. "Of course." 

Derek helps set the table and puts his hand on Stiles' back when he's passing by Stiles stirring pots on the stove, letting him know he's there. 

 

~*~

 

It's been weeks and they haven't gotten anywhere with Derek's - condition. None of them really talk about it, and it seems to Stiles that he's the only one who even thinks about it. It's constantly on his mind. They need to go back to the box, they need to figure this out, so everything can go back to the way it was before. Derek is free and easy with his affection, and he smiles all the time, and he doesn't seem to have a care in the world. It can't be like this. Stiles tries to bring it up, but Derek always changes the subject. 

"Have you read all the Harry Potter books?" Derek says. 

"I want to go to a baseball game," he says. 

"Your hair is getting longer," he says, running his fingers over Stiles' head. 

It's like he wants to stay this way. But Stiles knows he can't. 

 

~*~

 

One night Stiles is woken up first by the loudest crack of thunder he's ever heard, and second by his phone vibrating non-stop on his nightstand. There are several missed calls from Erica. 

"What is it? Did he eat too many ice cream cones and now he has a tummy ache?" 

"He's missing," Erica says. 

"What?" Stiles sits up and starts getting dressed automatically. 

"We all thought - we all thought the other was with him, but none of us have seen him all day," Erica says. 

"I know where he is," Stiles says and hangs up. 

Stiles boats his jeep through the goddamn flooded roads to the goddamn Hale house and finds goddamn Derek Hale sitting outside on the goddamn ground like he was dropped there from another planet. It makes sense, because Derek has been on another planet. He's sitting where Laura was - where he had to - where Scott and Stiles - 

"What are you doing here?" Stiles yells over the rain. It's absolutely pouring. Stiles has been outside for 10 seconds and every molecule of his body is soaking wet, and who knows how long Derek has been out here. 

Derek looks up at him and his eyes flash red for the first time since all this happened, but only for the barest of moments. 

"I wanted to come here," Derek says. He sounds lost. 

"Why did you want to come here?" Stiles says. He crouches down next to Derek, tries not to startle him.

"I don't know," Derek says, voice wobbly. Even with all the rain Stiles can see tears come out of Derek's eyes. 

"Can you remember what happened here?" Stiles says. He puts his hand over one of Derek's, and Stiles' hands are freezing cold, but Derek's are even colder than his. 

"No," Derek says. "I know what happened, but I can't remember. It's like it happened to someone else." 

It's because you are someone else, Stiles thinks. 

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you out of the rain." 

"I don't want to remember," Derek says. He looks up at Stiles like he's asking Stiles permission. Stiles doesn't want Derek to remember, either, whatever it is. He almost wants to let Derek stay like this, let this become the new normal. Whatever Derek doesn't want to remember, Stiles wants to let him forget. Derek lets out a sob he was holding back and pulls his hands away, hugging his arms around himself. Stiles wants to let him forget, but he can't. Derek can't be like this. 

"Come on," Stiles says. 

He drags Derek up by the armpits,and stuffs him into the jeep, which he's left idling a little ways off. Derek is shivering and Stiles blasts the heat, Derek spreading his hands out directly in front of the vents. 

"Take your jacket off," Stiles says. "You're gonna get pneumonia. Do werewolves get that? You're gonna get werewolf pneumonia." 

It takes him a few minutes, because Derek is wearing a denim jacket for some reason and wet denim is the worst to take off, especially when you're in a car, but eventually he gets it all the way off. Stiles throws it in the backseat. He wishes he'd thought to bring dry clothes. Lightning strikes somewhere close, illuminates Derek's sad, wet face, and Stiles braces himself for the boom, but it's only a small one. 

"Thank you," Derek says. 

"For what?" Stiles says. 

"Caring about me," Derek says. 

Stiles goes to deny it, it's in his mouth, ready for him to spit it out, but he can't. It's true, he does care about Derek. 

"I care about you, too," Derek says. 

"You care about everyone right now," Stiles says. 

Derek puts his hand on the back of Stiles' head and Stiles wonders why this feels familiar, then remembers Derek bashing his head into the steering wheel, which seems like forever ago. What Derek does now hurts worse. What Derek does now is pulls him in and crashes their mouths together in a kiss. His long hair drips water on Stiles' nose, and his beard is wet. It's like kissing a crying sponge with hot lips. 

Stiles brings his hands up and puts them on Derek's face. He pulls them apart slowly, gently. He tries to show Derek he's not trying to get away from him, but he can't do this, but he doesn't know how to tell Derek it's because it breaks his heart. He rests his forehead against Derek's, and Derek sighs. He pushes his fingers through Derek's hair, methodically combing droplets out of it, repetitive motion, soothing. 

"Okay," Stiles says. "You're okay." 

"Okay," Derek says. 

Derek doesn't get werewolf pneumonia, but he does have a pretty good cough the next day. Stiles brings Vic's vapo rub from home and makes Derek lie down in bed with his shirt off. Stiles rubs the vapo rub into Derek's chest until it looks like he's fallen asleep. When Stiles is putting his shoes on to go, Derek comes up behind him in the doorway. Stiles leans up against it and lets Derek kiss him. He neither encourages it nor discourages it. Maybe he tilts his head back and presses into the kiss, maybe his mouth opens a little to allow Derek to deepen it, just for a moment, just sweet enough to hurt Stiles down to his bones, but that's just instinct kicking in. It's nothing. Derek would never do this. It's not normal and Stiles can't let it become normal. 

 

~*~ 

 

Stiles goes to Derek's house one morning to check in and finally, it's his turn to glare at Erica and shriek, "What did you do?"

Erica shrugs. "Wolfsbane brownies."

Isaac, Boyd, Derek, and Peter Hale of all people are all sitting in a row on the couch watching PBS. Stiles is pretty sure it's the Ken Burns documentary about jazz.

"What's he doing here?" Stiles says. 

"Derek invited him," Erica says. She stands right behind him and mimes choking him. 

"Let's. Start. A. Band," Isaac says.

"We can't," Peter scoffs. "We'd get discriminated against."

"What do you know?" Boyd says.

"I can play the clarinet," Isaac says. "Like, so good."

"I can play like a fuckin', tuba or something," Peter says.

Everyone starts laughing and screaming and falling all over each other. It's very disturbing. Stiles really wishes Peter wasn't here, and he decides to do something about it while he can.

"Peter, get out," Stiles says.

Peter gets up right away and leaves, muttering "aw, man" as he goes.

"See ya, Der," Peter calls from the doorway.

Derek throws him a peace sign, which Peter returns. It's horrifying.

Stiles takes Peter's place on the couch. Derek throws his arm around Stiles and nuzzles his nose behind Stiles' ear. He wonders if Derek has told the others about - whatever. He wonders if it's obvious. He glances at Erica, who is staring at them and putting her fingers down her throat and pretending to puke. Derek pulls a brownie out apparently from behind his back, which Stiles slaps out of his hand. Derek goes to pick it up again so Stiles steps on it and squashes it into the floor. Apparently bending makes Derek feel exhausted because he lays his head down in Stiles' lap and immediately falls asleep, and then Boyd uses Derek's butt as a pillow to go to sleep, and then Isaac uses Boyd's butt as a pillow to go to sleep.

Erica runs over and takes a picture before Stiles can cover his own face.

"Ugh," Stiles says. "I hope you're only gonna use that to blackmail Derek when he gets back to normal."

"What do you mean?" Erica whispers.

"You're joking," Stiles says, switching to a whisper, too.

"No," Erica says. "We all like him like this. I think he likes himself like this. He seems happy. What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong is he can't like himself like this because he's not himself," Stiles says, whispering viciously. "This was done to him. He didn't choose to be like this."

Peter barges back in by kicking the door open. Erica stands and wolfs out, ready to attack, but he just takes his jacket off a dining room chair and says, "forgot this!" before turning right back around and leaving.

Erica breathes a sigh of relief and sits back down, but she looks at Derek same as Stiles. Stiles realizes he has a tight grip on the back of Derek's neck when Derek shakes his head to dislodge him, but he doesn't even wake up. They all could've been in danger, but Derek wouldn't see it, even if he'd been completely awake.

Stiles doesn't know how, but he needs to fix this. This is not normal and it can't become normal. They're not safe like this, none of them are. Laidback, pie-loving, peace-sign-throwing, hacky-sacking, frisbee-fetching, wolfsbane-brownie-nap-taking Derek is a nice change, but he won't win in a fight, won't protect anyone like this, especially not himself, not like he's supposed to.

 

~*~

 

Stiles decides the only way to figure this out is to retrace their steps. They have to go back to the box. He tells Erica what the plan is, and she relays it to Boyd but not to Isaac, because Isaac can't keep a secret.

"Wow, I can't believe you got us all surfing lessons!" Isaac says.

"Yeah, they were having a special," Stiles says. He wonders when Derek's pack started liking him. Probably the same time Derek started to like him. He wonders when Derek started liking him. "Buy 4, get one free."

Derek comes out wearing plaid board shorts, a Dodgers t-shirt, sandals, and a puka shell necklace. He greets Stiles with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and his very soft beard tickles Stiles' cheek. 

"Where did you get - this?" Stiles says, playing with the puka shell necklace for a second, then backing off when he realizes he's leaning into Derek's space. 

"What?" Derek says, looking down at himself to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

"Nevermind," Stiles says. "Let's go to - the beach."

"Can we stop and get McDonald's first? Pleeease?" Isaac says.

"No," Stiles says, at the same time Derek says "of course!"

Stiles looks into the rearview mirror, and Erica is glaring at him with crazy eyes. Either she's trying to tell him to make it more believable, or she really loves McDonald's. They go through the drive thru regardless and everyone is happy with their damn McNuggets and fries that it's enough of a distraction for Derek and Isaac not to notice they're going towards the woods and not the beach.

When they pull up to the clearing and park, Erica finally leans over and whispers into Isaac's ear.

"You mean we're not going surfing?" Isaac says sadly.

"What?" Derek says. He's looking at the forest like it's his worst nightmare.

"Derek, step out of the car with me, okay?" Stiles says. "Let's go for a walk."

"No," Derek says. "I know what you want me to do, and I don't wanna do it."

His jaw clenches and tears, actual tears come to his eyes, and Stiles doesn't know what to do.

Erica, Boyd, and Isaac quietly step out of the car. They skip arm-in-arm-in-arm into the woods, Erica glancing behind her, giving Stiles a slight nod.

"Derek, you can't stay like this," Stiles says.

"Why not?" Derek says. Tears roll down his cheeks and he doesn't even try to hide them or stop them, which should be his first clue as to why not. This is the second time he's seen Derek cry, and Derek would never cry in front of another living thing, not even a house plant. He sounds genuinely upset for the first time in days. 

"You're not yourself like this," Stiles says. He tries to sound calm and reasonable when he really just wants to say screw it, let's go surfing, ice cream for everyone. He wants to say nevermind, we can go back to your place and play fetch and roll around in the grass and touch each other's faces, and maybe we can kiss some more because Stiles really wants to kiss Derek, especially right now, because Derek is so sad and Stiles is a nurturer at heart, damn it, damn his soft heart for crying people and scared animals.

"I feel like myself," Derek says.

He didn't want to, but Stiles is going to have to play his next card. "You can't protect anyone like this," he says. "You need to be able to worry, and feel anger. Peace signs and pacifism is all good, but not when we need fighters. There's danger out there, Derek, and it can walk right through your front door, and we need you to see it."

"I don't wanna fight anymore," Derek says. He sniffles pitifully and eats a fry that was tucked under his thigh on the seat.

"I know," Stiles says. He wants to kiss Derek, so he does, softly, on his temple, trying to soothe. Instead it makes Derek's face pinch up with pain.

"I know you don't like me," Derek says. "You like me like this." 

"Who says I don't like you?"

"I know you didn't like me," Derek says. "I'm not stupid."

"I think you are stupid, because I liked you before and you never noticed," Stiles says. He might as well say all this now, because it's the truth, and he doesn't think Derek will remember any of it.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Derek," Stiles says. "I liked you, just the way you were. I like you now, but not - I miss the old you."

"Okay," Derek says. He smiles that beautiful eye-sun smile. He gets out of the car and starts walking like he can't stop, like if he stops he'll never start again. Stiles follows behind him.

 

~*~

 

Boyd, Isaac, and Erica are all waiting at the boulders when Derek and Stiles get there. They all look at him sadly, Isaac with tears in his eyes. 

"He's gonna be fine, guys," Stiles says, but it sounds a little unsure to his own ears. 

Everyone hugs him like they're saying goodbye to Frodo. Derek extracts himself from their werewolf group hug and nods at each of them. 

"I love you guys," Derek says. 

"We know," Erica chokes out as tears roll down her cheeks. 

"See ya on the flip side, Der Bear," Boyd says gruffly. 

"Okay, come on," Stiles rolls his eyes. 

He marches Derek down into the secret underground lab once more. The others stay above ground and keep watch, but nothing in the lab has changed. It's still covered in dust, nothing has been disturbed, and the box's door still wide open where they left it before. This time, though, Stiles notices something he didn't before. There's a label inside the box right on the inside of the door. He can't believe Derek didn't see it when he was in there. It's not big, but it's noticeable. Big dumb Derek. 

"Look," Stiles says. He wipes the dust off the rest of the label. "Whattaya know? It wasn't hunters at all. That's the last time I let you talk me into anything stupid." 

Derek looks at him like even he doesn't believe that. 

"This box will get rid of all your troubles," Derek reads. "This amazing new invention makes worries disappear like that." 

"I think it's supposed to be, _disappear - like that_!" Stiles snaps his finger. 

Derek nods and continues. "It will make all your wishes and wants come true. Combine all the good points of a frontal lobotomy and a home-cooked meal without the disadvantages of either." 

"Yikes," Stiles says. "How old is this thing?" 

"It doesn't say," Derek says. "At the bottom it just says 'be careful'." 

"Are there any instructions on which buttons to push?" 

"No." 

"Do you remember which button you pushed last time?" 

"Kind of?" 

"Come on," Stiles says. "Let's just try." 

"Okay, but," Derek says. He yanks Stiles in close to him and kisses him hard and fierce, Stiles' mouth opening underneath his. He kisses back this time, winds his arms around Derek's neck. They kiss like Derek going into space and never coming back, which he might, if he hits the wrong button. When they pull apart, Stiles forgets why they're here. 

"That's for if you won't let me kiss you when I'm back," Derek says. 

Then he goes into the box and slams the door behind him. The same bright light from before beams out of the box, and the same rocketship noise. Stiles tries to look again, but he can't, it's too much. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac all run down like something's wrong, but Stiles waves his arms in a way he hopes says it's fine, this is what happens when you get in a magical box and press buttons and it transforms you into something else, no big deal. 

When the noise stops and the light dies down to nothing, the door swings open. Stiles holds his breath. He's afraid of what's going to come out of the box, and what's going to come out of his mouth. 

Derek stomps out of the box. His hair is short and his beard is gone. He's frowning. He looks - normal. 

"Is there like a razor in that thing?" Boyd says. 

Derek crumples to the ground. They all rush over to his side, but Stiles elbows them out of the way. He cradles Derek's head in his hands, touches his cheeks. This time, he kisses him. 

"Are you kissing me?" Derek says against Stiles' lips. 

Stiles jerks back and scrambles away without getting up, so he ends up crab-walking on Erica's foot. 

"Yes?" Stiles says.

"Stiles," Derek says. He rolls onto his side and pushes himself up off the ground. He doesn't ask for help. Nobody offers. Stiles gets up, too. 

"Derek?" Stiles says. 

"I remember," Derek says. He looms into Stiles' space. 

"Everything?" Stiles says. Stiles hunches his shoulders and looks down, because he can't look at Derek. 

"Everything," Derek says. He tilts Stiles chin up, probably getting his face into a better position to punch. 

"Are you - " Stiles says. 

"I'm me," Derek says, and he kisses Stiles on the mouth, as himself, in front of his pack, like it's normal. He pulls away just enough to take Stiles' hands in his. 

"I don't want a new dad," Erica whines, but she's smiling. 

"Really?" Stiles says. 

"Yes," Derek says. 

Then, "Ugh, what am I wearing?"

 

~*~

 

Epilogue: 

"Where did you get that?" Stiles says. 

"I rented it," Derek says, gesturing for Stiles to get in. 

"This is really weird," Stiles says. Derek brought a picnic basket and a blanket. 

"Really?" Derek says. He fires up the hot air balloon in his front yard and unties the rope anchoring it into the ground. "Seems normal to me."


End file.
